


That Damn Trenchcoat

by twisting_vine_x



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-19
Updated: 2012-06-19
Packaged: 2017-11-08 02:30:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/438149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twisting_vine_x/pseuds/twisting_vine_x
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the prompt: That time when Cas caught Dean doing something unexpected with the trenchcoat.</p><p>(Warning: Spoilers for the basic premise of season seven.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Damn Trenchcoat

It's been a year since the leviathans were defeated, and Castiel thinks he's finally starting to get the hang of this human thing. He knows how to eat, how to sleep, how to hunt like a human - and he knows what the proper response is when he walks into the motel room - back from shopping earlier than Dean had expected, apparently - and finds Dean completely and gloriously naked save for Castiel's old trenchcoat, stretched out on the grungy bed with his head titled backwards and a hand wrapped around his cock.

_"Dean."_

He can hear the ragged croak in his voice as he sags again the motel door frame, and then Dean is letting out a yelp and scrambling upright on the bed, yanking the coat closed around him as though there's some way to hide what he's been doing.

"Cas, shit," he says weakly, his face going absolutely scarlet, a blush of heat all the way from his chest to his forehead, a sight that sends a wave of heat across Castiel's own body, "Shit, sorry, I didn't mean to -"

"Why didn't you just say something?"

And before Dean can formulate a response to that, Castiel is dropping the groceries onto the floor, slamming the door shut, and crossing the room to push Dean back against the bed, the coat falling open to frame his body as he does so. Dean lets out a groan and arches up against Castiel's body, squeezing his eyes shut and tilting his head back again.

"Cause it's stupid," he manages to gasp, his skin still several shades of pink. "Your damn stupid fucking coat, of all things -"

And then Castiel cuts him off by dropping his lips to fasten them against Dean's neck, his hand sliding down to curl around Dean's cock with a sureness born of familiarity, and when Dean chokes out another groan and bucks up into the touch, all Castiel can do is close his eyes helplessly as he begins to take Dean apart.


End file.
